The Martyr
One day he appeared on the horizon
People lifted him up on their shoulders
He had stepped out of their dreams
They couldn’t speak
The way he spoke
They couldn’t laugh
The way he laughed
They couldn’t walk
The way he walked
They wanted him to speak
laugh and walk for all eternity
They installed him in the square in that
posture
Made him immortal
Now he can’t speak
can’t walk
His smile is fixed in stone
His head is covered with dust
and pigeon droppings
He would like to walk again
to sing and dance when he’s sad
He wants to be born again, live and die
But people wouldn’t approve of this.
Translated by Amarjit Chandan& John Welch
Page(s) 137
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